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CHAPTER SEVEN
Clarke
“I still can’t believe he just left you there.” Bonnie’s voice seethes through the speaker of the iPhone sitting face up on the coffee table in front of me. I’ve officially reached the point where we’ve been on the phone for so long I couldn’t hold the phone to my ear any longer.
“I still don’t know what happened, Bon,” I groan, pulling my knees into my chest as I sit on my couch, a half empty bottle of wine sitting next to my phone.
It’s been eight hours since Treyton left me at that ballfield. And in that time I’ve reached one conclusion–it was all my fault.
I knew what he was. And yet, I let him into my bed anyway.
Honestly, what did I expect?
“Well, that’s not entirely true,” I admit. “I knowexactlywhat happened. I let my guard down. As soon as he had proven he could have me, he bolted.”
“But then why stay the night? Why invite you to go to the camp?” Bonnie asks, trying to be my voice of reason when I know she’s ready to hop on a flight and de-ball a certain man who’s extremely lucky she’s hundreds of miles away.
“I guess so he could make sure he had me good and fooled.” I reach forward, setting my wine glass on the table just long enough to refill it before picking it back up. “I felt so stupid, Bon. Sitting there waiting for an Uber like the biggest loser to ever walk the face of the earth. Walk of shame has nothing on the way I felt during that car ride home.”
“I’m so sorry, Clarke.”
“I’m not,” I lie. “I got exactly what I deserved. My mom was right.”
“Was she though?”
“What do you mean? I think it’s pretty obvious she was.”
“Listen, I love your mom, but judging all celebrities based on an experience she had with one, is a bit of a stretch. I’m not saying what he did was okay, but I feel like there’s more to the story that we’re not getting.”
“More to the story?” I snort, taking a long pull of wine. “I think the story is pretty self-explanatory.”
“Look, I wanna kill him just as much as you do, so keep that in mind as I say this, but I don’t buy the wholeslept with you just to prove he couldtheory. I mean, why seek you out? Why insist you have dinner with him? Why spend the entire week pursuing you? We’re talking about a man who could walk down the street and pick up three women within a block. Seems like an awful lot of workjustto get laid.”
“Maybe it was the challenge,” I counter.
“But how would he know you’d be a challenge when he first sought you out? Why did he seekyouout specifically?” she asks questions I don’t have an answer for. “There’s more to it, Clarke. I can feel it.”
“Maybe.” I mull over her words. “But does it really matter now?”
“I suppose not,” Bon admits. “I just hate that he hurt you.”
“I hate that I let him.” I fight back the tears that well behind my eyes. If I haven’t already cried over this man yet, I sure as hell am not going to start now. “And, I hate that now I have to call my mom and apologize.”
“Maybe save that for another day.” Bon chuckles.
“Yeah, I think that’s probably a good idea,” I grumble.
“I have an idea.” Her tone instantly changes. “What if I fly down next Friday for a long weekend?”
“Wait, what?” I sit up so abruptly that wine sloshes over the sides of my glass onto my lap. “Are you serious?”
It’s been months since I’ve seen my best friend in person.
“I am. What kind of best friend would I be if I didn’t at least take you out and get you good and drunk?”
“Bonnie, don’t mess with me.” My hands shake with excitement.
“I’m not messing.” The smile in her voice is so clear, it’s like she’s standing right in front of me. “Can you make it work with your schedule?”
